


Made to Love

by Rhysanoodle



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Not ACOSF Compliant, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-22 21:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30044847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhysanoodle/pseuds/Rhysanoodle
Summary: Ask prompt: I’m sorry but I like to believe Elain has read more smut than Feyre and Nesta combined.I had written this prior to ACOSF releasing so a few small details aren't compliant.
Relationships: Elain Archeron/Azriel
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	Made to Love

“So when are you and the bat going to finally get together?” Nesta prodded Elain, seated across from her at the small dining room table.

Elain blushed. She’d had a crush on Azriel for ages, yet he seemed to be completely oblivious to her flirting. “I’m not even sure he feels that way about me. If he did …” She trailed off, not knowing what, exactly, she expected from him—some incredibly romantic gesture to sweep her off her feet wouldn’t hurt.

“Elain!” Feyre squealed, “Azriel cannot take his eyes off of you. It’s totally obvious, which is saying something for a male who knows how not to wear his heart on his sleeve.”

It was true that Elain had been praying that this trip to Windhaven would yield something—they were staying in the same cabin after all. Yet, while he was still being friendly to her like always, their interactions had never evolved, and she still doubted that he was even capable of feeling that way about her.

“Feyre’s right. I’m surprised he hasn’t jumped your bones all alone in that cabin every evening.” If only. “You know, it’s true what they say. Illyrian’s wingspans _do_ correspond to the sizes of _other parts._ And Azriel’s probably got the biggest wingspan of them all.” Nesta flashed her a roguish grin.

Elain had heard this time and time again—something the other females in the Inner Circle liked to reference, usually when drunk. They were always so coy about it. Elain rolled her eyes. “You mean their dicks?”

Feyre spat out her tea. “Elain! Wha—what?” she sputtered, face reddening.

“You all always skirt around the words whenever you talk about cocks. I’m not sure why you can’t just call them what they are.” She shrugged, taking a sip of their tea.

“Where did you learn those words?” Nesta asked, clearly aghast.

“Honestly, Nesta, I’m not twelve. Just because I’ve never been with a male doesn’t mean I haven’t … studied if you will.”

In truth, ever since moving out of Feyre and Rhys’s estate a year ago, Elain had found that she had a lot of free time in the evenings when she didn’t dine with the rest of her friends and family. She had read a decent amount of Nesta’s romance novels in Nesta’s wake as they were growing up, but with all those freshly empty periods of time, she’d gone down to that little book store by the Sidra and indulged herself.

They were amusing enough on their own, but she also secretly wanted to be … prepared if for some reason things ever did progress with the Illyrian who had so thoroughly held her attentions for longer than she cared to admit.

“How much do you read those things?!” Feyre still hadn’t recovered. “I’ve never seen you even pick them up.”

“Maybe you should pay better attention,” Elain shrugged. “They were littered around Father’s estate once Nesta got into them, and nobody actually comes and visits me at my apartment. I may have a few shelves full of them at this point. They keep me company on those lonely nights.”

“That’s more than even I have,” Nesta spat out. “How?”

“I don’t know. You probably stopped reading as much since you’ve gotten with Cas. How am I supposed to know?”

It was frustrating to Elain that both of them still seemed completely thrown off guard by her revelation. She was an adult. Why shouldn’t she? She was tired of them all treating her like this delicate little flower who needed to be shielded from the world.

Elain had seen some shit—more than she had even bothered to tell them about—in her life and in her visions. She’d let go of that fragile human girl who had been so concerned with being proper and conforming to what the human world had expected of her.

“And you actually enjoy them?”

“Of course! My favorites are the ones where it takes all book, or multiple books, for them to get together. Or if they completely hate each other in the beginning. Or if they both think the other isn’t interested and are infinitely jealous of anyone else who gets close. When it does happen, it’s so satisfying, and maybe one day I’ll find that.”

Elain was completely wrapped up in finally being able to gush about all her favorite tropes. Since she’d kept this hobby to herself for a while, she hadn’t really had any outlet for it before.

“Do you hope that it will happen with Azriel?” Feyre asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“Ugh. I wish! We’ve been alone in that cabin for the last two nights. It’s why I’m telling you guys that he can’t be into me. He hasn’t pushed me up against a wall or tried to come up with some excuse for us to share a bed or—” A familiar scent hit her nostrils. Shit. Shit shit _shit_.

Feyre was grinning over Elain’s shoulder, and Elain steeled herself, knowing who she would find standing behind her. Damn his powers for making him so silent.

“Or what?” Azriel murmured, an unreadable look on his face as she beheld him, hazel eyes practically singing as he drank her in.

“Or blindfolded me with those shadows and made me beg for you,” Elain squeaked.

She heard a rustling behind her, as her sisters scurried out of the room, the back door slamming onto the frame upon their exit from the cabin she’d been sharing with Azriel.

“And you want that?” Was that … a grin quickly spreading as he allowed it to grace his lips?

“More than anything,” Elain admitted, surprising even herself with her own candor.

“Then, allow me to oblige you,” Azriel crooned. “I was just going to grab my blade and meet up with my brothers in the ring, but I can think of many _much_ better uses for it.”

Without missing a beat, Azriel hoisted her up onto his hips, his lips crashing against her own ravenously as he ascended the stairs effortlessly, depositing her into his bed.

“Like this?” Azriel summoned a thick blanketing of shadows which felt cool to the touch as they laid themselves across her face and obscured her vision.

Elain nodded, gooseflesh prickling her skin in anticipation, but after a few moments she felt nothing further, heard not the shifting of the shadowsinger approaching her.

And then she remembered … “ _Please_ , Azriel,” she begged.

“Please, what? What do you want, love?”

“You,” she breathed, as he lightly traced a fingertip down her arm, sending shivers down her spine.

“How do you want me?”

“I want you to fuck me dizzy. I _need_ you to take me.”

“You need me to take you? It seems you’ve forgotten your manners.” The finger finished its trail and vanished, leaving her skin burning in its wake. He made no further move against her.

“Please.” She played along with him. “It has to be you.”

“Unfortunate that this pretty dress is in the way of all the loveliness underneath,” he purred, after Elain felt him shift, until he was on hands and knees, his lips now at her ear.

“Fuck the dress,” Elain whispered only moments before a swipe of ice cold power ripped through the bodice, Elain feeling the crisp Illyrian air hit her skin as a few more brutal slashes from Azriel’s Siphons tore at the dress before it fell, shredded, beneath her on the bed. Well, he was nothing if not incredibly efficient.

Everything stilled as Elain waited, hearing a muted shuffling from above her, but she felt a warmth radiating from his bare chest as he lowered himself once again into her orbit, lips pressed to her throat.

“You’re delicious,” he purred between nips, teeth and tongue pulling Elain’s ratcheting heart into that hollow of her neck, a heat building deep within her core.

She instinctively reached up with her hands, threading them through his hair as one of his hands moved to cup her breast, thumb idly flicking her nipple in conjunction with the moment where his teeth grazed her.

Elain was already at the point of combustion, unable to control the way her legs wrapped around his waist as she grounded hungrily into him. She could feel the bulge of him, even through the leathers, and it was an effort in self control not to rub herself raw against them. His heat was all that was protecting her from the cold, and her body was magnetized to his, wanting to milk every point of heated contact between them.

Azriel responded in kind, hips digging into her own, her own natural lubricant having already transferred onto the surface of his pants. Oh, glorious Mother. If she was already feeling lightheaded from this base contact, she could only imagine the pleasure of having him fill her.

“What are you thinking?” he growled quietly, as she fought against every instinct to try to flip him over and mount him.

“I’m thinking that I might combust if I don’t feel you inside me soon. I’m thinking that I’ve been in a drought for far too long, and if I don’t get satiated soon, I may just go up in flames. It’ll be a veritable forest fire.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Azriel crooned, one hand moving to his belt buckle. Some raw magic must’ve been involved, as Azriel didn’t so much as move from his position on top of her before she felt bare thighs tangling with her own, her sex throbbing with need as she felt his cock pressed up next to it.

Every ounce of her being stilled to that focus, as she imagined his raw heat thrusting into her, filling up every inch of aching need inside her.

She’d never quite understood those frantic moments where females just lost all sense of reason, narrowing to their basest desires in her novels, before now. Her hand had absolutely nothing on this, and it hadn’t even penetrated her yet.

“ _Please_ ,” Elain moaned, not even bothering to care how much she begged of him. He was probably enjoying it anyways. Males always seemed to.

Her pleas were answered not by his member but by one ribbed finger slipping inside her, crooking itself as it explored hungrily, pumping in and out a few times, brushing up against the spot which drove Elain wild as it went before he pulled it out and murmured, “Delicious, and delectably ready,” before he glided his cock into her awaiting pussy.

Cauldron help her. After the initial sting of discomfort, she adjusted around him, her sex drinking him in and unable to to get enough of him, even as he seated himself to the hilt. Elain felt herself contracting unconsciously around him and groaned.

Elain’s hands kept their purchase in his hair, holding on for dear life as he threatened to shatter everything she was in the span of a single breath. Azriel began to move within her—slow strokes at first, gradually picking up pace as they melded into one.

As she began to fracture around him, Elain’s fingers glided to his upper back, her nails digging in, trailing jagged lines down along the column of his spine as she felt him tense beneath her and heard a series of jagged breaths around a muttered, “ _Elain_ ,” her name so much softer on his tongue which had been wicked and taunting only moments before.

They had been playing a game together, yet it seemed that even the practiced shadowsinger couldn’t keep up his mask as he came, the two of them finding their completion together.

They hung there together, sweat slicking between them, breathing still labored as he slowed and pulled out of her, wasting little time in flopping onto the mattress and making a show of pulling her on top of him.

Elain was about to complain, when the blindfold was finally removed, and she was greeted with the sight of Azriel’s smile—radiant and unrestrained—illuminating the space between them. She thought she had seen him happy before, but realized now that everything else paled in comparison to the grin he bore now.

With a quiet chuckle, he finally asked, “Was that enough to satisfy all your needs, my lady?”

Head still spinning with euphoria, Elain did her best to match her face to his, panting, “It was even better than I’d imagined.” And with that she leaned into him, hair curtaining his face, as she pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “My book boyfriends have nothing on you.”


End file.
